Indisposed
by LovestoRead2013
Summary: Hetty has surgery, Kensi is injured, and Nell has the flu. The men of the OSP have to make adjustments while the ladies are out of commission. Humor/Densi/Neric
1. Chapter 1

"Could I have a word, Mr. Callen?"

Callen glanced up from checking e-mail on his computer. It was early and the rest of the team had yet to arrive. Not surprisingly, Hetty had silently popped up before him like the petite ninja she was.

"Sure thing." He got up and followed her, dropping into one of the less-than-comfortable chairs in front of her mahogany desk. The desk was small, but sturdy. Rather like the woman herself.

"What's up?"

"Beginning tomorrow, I will be away for several weeks. You will be in charge in my absence."

Callen was surprised by this sudden announcement. "Away, as in a vacation? A Tibetan retreat perhaps?" he asked. "Or is it some specialized training with Granger?"

Hetty poured a steaming cup of tea and offered Callen one. He shook his head.

"Hah! I've forgotten more about how this place operates than Owen Granger could ever hope to know. No, Mr. Callen, I'm afraid it's something much less exotic. My doctor insists that it is time for a knee replacement."

"Knee replacement? Wow, didn't see that one coming." For a moment, Callen was speechless. How would things function without the indomitable Hetty?

"Knowing you, I'm sure you resisted as long as you could."

"Indeed I did. But Dr. Tomassi finally wore me down when he explained how the pros outweighed the cons." Without thinking, Hetty reached under the desk and massaged her right knee. "For years I have evaded assassin's bullets, knives, poisonous darts and even the machinations of highly-esteemed, but ultimately devious bureaucrats. But even I cannot escape the ravages of time and age."

"Guess I'll have the climbing wall all to myself."

Hetty gave him a look. "Best use this time to improve your technique."

He smirked. "Duly noted. But I will look forward to taking on the new and improved Hetty."

"Duly noted," she returned. "In the meantime, you will need to be available to handle any issues that crop up with Assistant Director Granger or Director Vance."

"Of course. Maybe even to 'pull the wool' over their eyes, if necessary?" asked Callen, his eyebrows raised.

Hetty's lips twitched, barely suppressing a smile, as she fixed him with her inscrutable gaze. "I think we understand each other perfectly, Mr. Callen."

Picking up a folder from her desk, Hetty continued. "Now there is one piece of business to attend to in the immediate future - the annual NCIS/FBI joint training exercise. As you recall, the FBI kicked our butt last year. I think it's high time we returned the favor."

Callen took the folder and perused it. "I couldn't agree more."

Ten minutes later, the rest of the team, including Eric and Nell, assembled in the bullpen. Hetty informed them of her upcoming surgery and what to expect in the coming weeks.

"I may need a _shoulder_ replacement if Kensi doesn't stop hitting me," said Deeks. He rubbed one shoulder, then the other. He had yet to suffer a hit this morning, but the day was still young.

"When they come up with a _brain_ replacement, that will be a monumental day for you, Deeks," said Kensi. Giggles erupted from the group.

"You're really going to trust G with your tea service?" asked Sam. More giggles.

"Not to worry, Mr. Hanna. I know precisely how many teacups I have and should anything happen to them, well . . ." The remainder of the threat was left hanging.

After a few more instructions, the meeting broke up. Callen and Hetty returned to her desk; Sam went to shoot some hoops in the gym; and Deeks and Kensi went to the gun range. Nell and Eric were walking back up to Ops when Nell paused on the landing.

"AT-Choo. At-choo, at-choo, at-choo."

"Bless you," said Eric. "Are you okay?"

"Not really. I didn't sleep well last night. I think I'm coming down with something."


	2. Kicking Butt

Deeks insisted on driving the next morning and picked Kensi up at 7 a.m.

"Why are you here so early? We don't have to be there until 8:30." She suppressed a yawn and pulled her hair into a ponytail.

He grinned. "If we're going to kick some FBI butt this year, we need to have a substantial breakfast under our belts."

"I'm happy with donuts and coffee," shrugged Kensi.

"Oh no, my ninja princess. You'll change your mind when you see the spread at this place," said Deeks as he turned into the parking lot of a place simply called, _Mama's_.

A dozen customers were already milling around outside. Suddenly, the neon "Open" sign flickered to life and they surged through the front door. Deeks and Kensi followed in their wake.

Once inside, Kensi's stomach growled and her mouth watered as she took in the long buffet of pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, toast, sausage, biscuits, gravy, sliced fruit, bagels, muffins, pastries, and donuts.

She pointed down the line. "Is that . . . fried chicken? Who eats fried chicken for breakfast?"

"Sometimes I do. It's awesome!" smiled Deeks. "And look, they even have your donuts. Grab a tray. I see my favorite booth is still vacant."

"Maybe you're onto something here," agreed Kensi as she started loading her tray.

NCIS/FBI Joint Training Exercise – 8:30 a.m.

Kensi and Deeks walked into the large warehouse where the training exercise was being held. It was only about two miles from the boat shed. Teams from other NCIS field offices were in Los Angeles for four days of drills and training with their FBI counterparts, all in an attempt to foster inter-agency cooperation and communication.

Kensi immediately spotted a local FBI agent they'd worked with on a previous operation. The guy threw up a hand in greeting and started to approach. However, he stopped short and his smile faded when he noticed Deeks coming up behind her.

Deeks saw him, too. Quickly, he caught up to Kensi and slid an arm around her waist. She turned to glare at him, but Deeks ignored her. He was staring at the FBI agent and sending a telepathic message: _That's right. She's my partner. Don't even THINK about messing with her. _

As usual in these situations, there were twice as many male agents as female agents. As Deeks looked around, he saw several women he would label as _average_ or even _cute_. But there was no other woman as _smoking hot_ as his Kensi. There were a couple of female NCIS agents even bigger than Deeks and built like lumberjacks.

"Scary," he mumbled.

Kensi turned to look at him. "What?"

"Nothing."

_Yeah, I definitely have the best-looking partner._

"Worried about taking on these guys?" she laughed.

"No way. It'll be a piece of cake."

_As long as I don't have to work with Lumberjack Lucy._

Everything went smoothly until early afternoon. As far as Deeks could tell, NCIS was indeed whipping the FBI. Then suddenly he and Kensi were split up to work with different partners. He knew his face showed his displeasure.

"Hey, the point of this whole thing is to learn to work better with others," said Kensi.

"I work best with _my_ partner, which is _you_, Fern."

Kensi rolled her eyes and gave him a shove. "Go on before that instructor puts you in timeout. I bet she could wipe the floor with you any day."

Deeks looked up to see 'Lumberjack Lucy' as he'd mentally dubbed her holding a clipboard. "I am so dead here," he sighed.

Kensi had the audacity to snicker. "Show them what you've got, beach boy! Make NCIS proud."

Deeks found it hard to concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing in this drill. He kept glancing around the warehouse trying to keep tabs on Kensi.

Meanwhile, Kensi was put into a group which included a petite redheaded FBI agent from Phoenix named Carla.

"Wow! Who's that blond guy?" asked Carla.

Kensi followed her line of sight to the other side of the warehouse and frowned.

_Of course. Deeks. _

He was wearing that hideous green-and-purple striped tee shirt. She had been about to mock it this morning, but then Deeks introduced her to the wonders of Mama's buffet. After her stomach was full she forgot all about dissing his clothing choices.

Its only redeeming quality was the way it molded to Deeks' toned chest. _ Where did that thing come from? _she wondered._ One thing's for certain: it has to go. It would be perfect for cleaning my gun. Now to get it off him. _

Deeks was talking to a group of FBI agents. No doubt he was recounting some of his LAPD exploits and embellishing them.

"Oh . . . him."

"You know him?"

"I've, uh, worked with him," said Kensi vaguely. A wave of irritation and jealousy suddenly hit her.

_Should I mention I fell asleep on his couch Friday night wearing his tee shirt which smelled deliciously like him and his cologne? Or that Saturday morning I woke up in his bed, minus my jeans and boots? _

Kensi considered this for a moment. _Nah, some things are better left unsaid. _

"Is he single?

"Uh, yeah . . . well, divorced. Divorced with three kids under the age of five. Lot of issues with his ex."

_Did that seriously just come out of my mouth?_

"I heard he's behind on his alimony and child support payments and she's taking him back to court." Kensi was on a roll now and her mouth seemed to be working independently of her brain.

_Boy, that was the mother of all lies._ _But I have to protect our 'thing,' even if I can't exactly explain what it is. _

Carla's face fell and she gave a disgusted snort. "Ugh. Sounds like my deadbeat ex-husband. Don't need any more of that stuff," she said even as she continued to ogle him. "Although I wouldn't mind fooling around with him. He has a fantastic body."

Kensi's jaw dropped. She wanted to pistol-whip this little upstart. Fortunately, she reigned in that dangerous thought and said, "Come on, I think they're ready for us over there."

As they walked away, Kensi dropped her voice. "By the way, I heard he tested positive for hepatitis."


	3. Down for the Count

**At the Mission**

AT-choo, AT-choo. Nell grabbed a handful of tissues and dabbed her runny, red nose.

"Ugh," she sighed. It was only 1 p.m. She felt like she'd been kicked down the stairs and then stomped on. Right now, she was shivering and her teeth chattered uncontrollably; five minutes ago she was burning up. She got up and retrieved her pink down-filled jacket from the coat rack in the corner. Then she laid her head on the desk and pulled the jacket over her head.

Ten minutes later, Eric bounded up the stairs from the burn room, whistling a jaunty tune. Another stack of old paper files had been cleared out. He stopped and regarded the pink _blob_, for lack of a better word, on Nell's desk.

"Nell, are you in there?" he asked cautiously.

"No," came the muffled reply.

"Why don't you go home?"

Her head peeked out. "I can't. Callen's team may be standing down for a few days, but we still have McGuire's team to support. Not to mention those cold cases Director Vance wants us to look into."

"Yes, but you're sick. It's not like you'd be playing hooky." He picked up the box of tissues. "No wonder your nose is red. You're using these cheapo things."

"That's all I could find in the supply room," she mumbled.

Eric thought for a moment. "Back in a sec." He left Ops and went downstairs.

When he returned, Nell was sitting up, wearing her jacket and pecking away on her tablet.

"Here. Went on a little shopping trip," he grinned. He set a bottle of orange juice, hand sanitizer, and a new box of tissues on her desk.

"I found this blanket. It was left over from some disaster drill." He lifted it to his nose and sniffed. "I think it's clean." He unfolded it and gently draped it around Nell's shoulders.

She stopped typing and looked up at him and smiled. "That's wonderful. Thanks."

"Not at all. You'd do the same for me."

Her nose crinkled as another sneezing session started. AT-choo, at-choo, at-choo.

Eric grabbed a tissue from the new box and stuck it under Nell's nose. She was pleasantly surprised. "Ah, this has the lotion in it! Where did you find these?"

"Hetty's credenza." He looked over his shoulder as if he expected their operations manager to mysteriously appear. He wouldn't put it past her to be monitoring them even now from the hospital.

Nell giggled. "Oooh, you naughty boy! It'll be our little secret."

"Only the best for my Nell."

Nell gave him a strange look. "Excuse me, _your_ Nell?"

Eric's eyes widened and he stammered, "Uh, my _partner_, that I work with, who is named Nell, who is sick."

Nell nodded. "Yeah, that's what I thought you meant." _I like it when I can make him blush._

Callen came up the stairs, talking on his cell. "Yes, I understand. I'll look at it as soon as I can." He ended the call and sighed, "I miss Hetty already. That was a conference call with Granger and Vance about some budget issues."

Suddenly, he noticed Nell. She was all bundled up in the blanket and her trash can was overflowing with used tissues.

"What's all this?" he asked.

"Sick bay," said Eric.

"Aren't you afraid you'll catch whatever it is?"

"Not worried. I had my flu shot," said Eric with an air of confidence.

"Uh huh," nodded Callen. His glance swung to Nell. "And Nell, did you ever get that shot? I seem to remember a couple weeks ago Hetty saying you were the only one who had not gotten it."

Her eyes darted to Eric, then back to Callen as she pulled the blanket closer. "Well, I meant to. But you know, we've been swamped lately and I never actually, uh, got around to it."

"Right," said Callen, shaking his head. "Okay, grab your purse. We're going to the clinic. Can't have you infecting the whole building."

She shrugged at Eric. "Sorry."

**NCIS/FBI Joint Training Exercise**

At the last second, Carla got pulled to another group. _It's good thing because I might have strangled her_, thought Kensi.

A mere 15 minutes later, something went awry in that group and Carla was being led away with a bloody nose. A thin, jittery man wearing an FBI windbreaker was trailing behind her.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to be so forceful," he wailed. "My supervisor is gonna kill me."

Kensi knew it was wrong to be glad about another's misfortune, but couldn't help thinking there was some poetic justice in the incident. _Serves her right for lusting after my Deeks. She is so not his type anyway. _

She looked up and saw him with his group. He grinned and gave a thumbs-up. She smiled and nodded.

What goes around, comes around. Half an hour later, Kensi was sprawled on the floor, her right foot bent at an unnatural angle. Her yelp of pain caused Deeks to break protocol with his group and rush to her side. A big brute of a guy was attempting to help her.

"Dude, I got this. She's my partner," said Deeks as he knelt beside her.

"I was a combat medic in Afghanistan. She's got a broken foot or ankle or maybe both."

Deeks was annoyed. "I don't care if you're the Surgeon General, I can take it from here."

The othe guy regarded Deeks with an amused look. "You sure she's just your _partner_?"

"My relationship with Kensi is none of your damn business."

"SHUT THE HELL UP! BOTH OF YOU!" yelled Kensi. "And somebody help me get up."

"Come on, princess. I got you," said Deeks. He slid an arm around her waist as she grabbed his shoulder. He brought her upright and helped her hobble to the sidelines.

Callen and Nell had just pulled into the parking deck at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center when Callen got a text from Deeks.

_Kensi injured. In ER Cedars-Sinai. _

"Do I even want to know?" said Callen. He ran a hand over his face.

"At least we're all in the same place," said Nell.

"Yeah, how convenient."


	4. Emergency Room

Page **4** of **4**

CHAPTER 4 – Emergency Room

"No wonder you fell, Kensi. These shoes are worn out. There's no grip left on the soles," said Deeks. "When are you going to buy some new ones?"

"Believe it or not, that was on my 'to do' list for this weekend." She shifted on the stretcher to get in a more comfortable position.

Deeks gave her a look. "Sure. You said that last weekend. And the weekend before that . . ."

"Okay, I had every intention, but I was helping my mom paint her kitchen and pick out new appliances."

Deeks sat on the side of her stretcher. There was a chair alongside it he could have used, but he decided that was too far away from Kensi.

"Uh huh. Mom time is good. But now you're all mangled up as a result."

"Like I don't know that?" she snapped. "And when are they going to do those stupid x-rays so I can get out of here?"

"Patience, Fern. When they release you, we're heading straight to the mall. We can get new shoes and maybe have one of those specialty pizzas. Sound good?"

Kensi flopped back against the pillow. "Duh! I can't try on new shoes with a broken foot."

"You don't have to try them on. Just get your size in your favorite brand. Problem solved."

Kensi blew out a sigh. "Fine. But you hate the mall," she reminded him.

"I do when you make me look at 20 shades of red nail polish. 'Deeks, which is better – the fire engine red or the scarlet kiss or the crimson passion?'" he said in a sing-song voice. Instinctively, he leaned away from her to avoid the slug he knew would be forthcoming.

She shot him a dirty look. "I thought you wanted us to spend more time together outside work. Like we aren't together 12 to 18 hours every single day. I can barely tie my shoes sometimes without you wanting to help."

When Kensi was all riled up like this, Deeks just kept on pushing the envelope. It took real effort not to laugh at her. "I do like to spend time with you. Now if we could move from the cosmetics department to say, the lingerie or swimsuit department, the mall experience would be perfect. I have no problem offering opinions in those areas." He gave her a cheeky grin and a wink.

"You talk way too much," she said.

"The question you should be asking is, 'Deeks, do you prefer this crimson passion bustier or the midnight black one?' to which I would respond, 'Gee Kens, I don't know. I'd really have to see them on you to give a definitive answer.'"

That gave her pause for a moment. Deeks was a shameless flirt and half the time she didn't know if he was being serious or just talking to hear himself talking. It was no secret that he wanted to advance their relationship, but she was still on the fence about it. They had a good – make that _great _- thing already, so why mess it up?

"Gee Deeks, would _you_ prefer a bullet in the foot or the kneecap?"

Deeks shuddered. "That's harsh."

Callen left Nell in the outpatient clinic and proceeded to the emergency room. He flashed his ID at the desk. "Federal agent. I'm looking for Kensi Blye." The nurse directed him to her cubicle. As he approached, he could hear Kensi and Deeks having one of their typical weird conversations. Something about bustiers and bullets. He shook his head in amusement.

He pulled back the curtain and saw Kensi's foot elevated on a pillow. It was swollen and already turning purple. Her face was beaded with perspiration and she was frowning.

"What the hell? You realize this was a training exercise, don't you? Not a WWF smackdown."

"It was a hostage rescue scenario and I was the hostage."

Callen looked at Deeks. "You didn't rescue her?"

"If they'd let us work together, this wouldn't have happened. You know I always take care of Kensalina."

Callen's phone chirped with a text. "I gotta go pick up Nell."

"Where is she?" asked Kensi.

"Outpatient clinic. She has the flu. Probably be out for at least a week."

"That's terrible," sighed Kensi. "I don't know which is worse – flu or this." She pointed to her throbbing foot.

"They're both bad," said Deeks. "How's Eric going to function without his partner?"

Callen shook his head. "Good question. Unfortunately, I don't have an answer for that."

"See, the universe does not like it when you separate people who are meant to be together," said Deeks ominously. "Eric and Nell; Deeks and Kensi. Need I say more?"

Kensi was restless again. "You probably need to say _less_ and get me some damn pain pills."

Callen chuckled and left to get Nell.

A nurse appeared, unfortunately not with pain medicine, but with another form for Kensi to sign. While she was occupied, he heard quiet laughter on the other side of the curtain. He eased it back a fraction and saw an elderly African-American man hooked up to a bunch of beeping monitors.

"You two sound like me and my missus," he laughed. "Over 55 years and always snapping at each other."

"Is that right? Where is your wife?"

The man's smile faltered a bit. "Moravia passed last year."

"Sorry to hear that," said Deeks. Hospital conversations were often awkward. He pointed to the monitors. "What are you in for?"

The man indicated the left side of his chest. "The old ticker's acting up again. But my son-in-law is a doc here so he'll get me fixed up."

A tall, harried-looking physician came around the corner. "Pops, there's a bed ready in the cardiac unit and Doreen's on her way."

"Doreen's my youngest. She's a doctor, too. Delivers babies," confided the man.

Deeks nodded. "Well, good luck to you, sir."

"Thank you." The man pointed to the curtain. "Young man, you've got a spunky one over there. Don't let her get away."

Deeks smiled broadly. "Trust me, I won't."

A big THANK YOU to everyone who's read and reviewed thus far! Your comments are so encouraging. Please keep them coming! Look for updates on the weekends. It's easier that way with work, etc.


	5. At the Mall

**CHAPTER 5 – AT THE MALL**

Clomp, clomp, clomp.

Kensi grimaced as she and Deeks made their way – slowly – to the mall entrance. The knee-high walking boot was annoying. So was the fact that her right jeans leg had been cut to accommodate the unwieldy contraption.

"Ugh," she grunted.

Deeks was instantly concerned. "What? Are you okay?"

She halted and gestured to her leg. "I'm far from okay, beach boy. These jeans are history, my foot hurts like hell, and I'm stuck at home for the next two days."

"Not to mention you're tired and hungry as a bear, which means your crankiness level is off the charts."

"I am not cranky! I am only stating the facts," said Kensi in a raised voice. Several people turned to stare at her. She took no notice of them as she directed her disgust at Deeks.

"Guess we'll have to agree to disagree on that, Kensalina."

Approaching them was a ready-to-deliver-any-second pregnant woman. They moved to the side to let her waddle by.

"I can't imagine what _you'd _be like pregnant," said Deeks under his breath.

"I'd probably have _you_ to blame for that condition," she snorted, eyes still fixed on the woman.

Deeks laughed and pumped his fist. "That's what I'm talking about!" He'd discovered over the past couple years that a stressed out Kensi sometimes let little things slip out. Little nuggets of truth disguised as crankiness.

"Did you maybe want to get started on that _condition_ tonight? Those pain pills help you relax so . . ."

"Zip it, Deeks. The only thing you're doing to me tonight is feeding me."

"Well, it's a start." He regarded her with a knowing look. "But it will happen."

She glared at him. "You're just overflowing with confidence and an inflated ego, aren't you?"

"It's the only way to roll, Fern."

Out of nowhere, a skinny teenager wearing a black hoodie and baggy pants darted past the pregnant woman and snatched her shoulder bag. She screamed and nearly lost her balance as her shopping bags went flying.

"HEY!" yelled Deeks. "LAPD! FREEZE!"

He sprinted after the kid while Kensi tried to console the woman. Other shoppers rushed over to offer help. They guided her to a bench to sit down. A businessman pulled a bottle of water out of his briefcase and thrust it into her hands.

The woman clutched her huge belly. "Ma'am, are you okay?" asked Kensi She fervently hoped this didn't cause her to go into labor. "Is there someone I can call for you?"

"My husband. He works over there." She pointed to an office building across the street.

Deeks caught up to the punk and wrestled him to the ground. The whole thing was over in a matter of seconds. An overweight mall security officer jogged up and, after taking a few deep breaths, slapped handcuffs on the guy.

"I know my rights, man. I got rights," said the kid angrily.

Deeks hauled him to his feet. "Yeah, you have the right to buy a belt to hold up these ridiculous pants. They don't even cover your scrawny butt." He paused and rubbed the side of his face. "And what about _my_ right to not have my face slammed against the pavement? Feels like someone took a Brillo pad to it." He looked at the perpetrator again. "Although, nice touch with the polka-dot underwear."

A ripple of laughter ran through the small crowd that had gathered for the takedown.

"If you want to come back to the security office, we have a first-aid kit there," offered the portly guard. "Got some antibiotic cream and stuff."

Deeks gingerly touched his face again. "Thanks, man, but this is a blip compared to a bullet in the gut."

After giving a statement to the guard, Deeks and Kensi finally got to the food court and had their pizza. "Sorry, no beer with those pain pills," said Deeks. A still cranky Kensi had to settle for a large soda.

An hour later, they had eaten, bought Kensi a new pair of shoes, and were headed to the car.

"Take me home," whined Kensi. "I gotta get off this foot."

"My place or yours?" asked Deeks.

"Yours is closer. But do I have any clothes there?" Kensi was ready to crash somewhere, anywhere.

Deeks thought for a moment. "Maybe some sweat pants. I'm not sure. However, clothing is always optional there. Monty won't mind and neither will I."

Kensi was in the back seat with her leg propped up. She looked at Deeks in the rear view mirror.

"I knew you'd say something moronic like that."

Deeks grinned. "Can't blame a guy for trying." They stared at each other for a moment.

"Seriously, you can wear my sweats and a tee shirt. It wouldn't be the first time. By the way, have you seen my blue Sea World tee shirt? I'm pretty sure I was wearing it at our last movie night."

Kensi feigned ignorance. "What Sea World tee shirt?" Even as she said it, she could visualize the shirt in her dirty clothes pile.

Deeks narrowed his eyes at her. He knew she had it. And she knew that he knew.

He started the engine. "That's what I thought."

**Dear Readers: **I hope to give you another chapter tomorrow, but enjoy this one for now. Keep those comments coming!


	6. Chapter 6 - Pillows That Talk

Page **5** of **5**

**CHAPTER 6 – PILLOWS THAT TALK**

After leaving the mall, they'd swung by Deeks' apartment to walk and feed Monty. Then it was on to Kensi's place because she decided she would be more comfortable among her _stuff, _or _junk _as Deeks affectionately termed it.

"Stop moving. Pillows don't move," complained Kensi. She settled herself against Deeks' chest as they sprawled on her couch. Deeks flipped through the TV channels trying to find something to watch.

Deeks laughed. "Is that what I am now – a giant pillow for you to punch?"

"Among other things."

"Yeah? What other things?"

"Hmm . . . excellent donut selector and pancake maker."

"Yeah, what's not to love about a guy who can cook?"

She jabbed his ribs. "Selecting donuts is not cooking. You simply point to the ones you . . . Hey, there's a good movie." Kensi sat up and gestured excitedly at the screen.

"What? _A Clown's Revenge_? Let me guess. It's a horror flick."

"It's so creepy. This clown gets tired of people making fun of him so he starts following them home from the circus and when they're asleep he . . ."

"I don't get why people like to be scared like that," said Deeks.

"It's totally awesome, but I have nightmares every time I watch it. But you're here so it's okay."

"Guess that means I'm staying."

Kensi turned her head to look at him. "Of course you're staying. I can't sleep without my pillow. And I have a broken foot. What if I need something during the night?"

"I can put a glass of water and your pain pills on the nightstand and you have your phone and gun." Deeks had no intention of leaving; he only wanted to annoy Kensi.

"What if there's an earthquake in the night or zombies break in?"

"Zombies. . . really? You're going to milk this for all it's worth, aren't you?" said Deeks with a chuckle.

"You got that right," she answered. "Now can you throw that quilt over me? I'm getting cold."

"As you wish, my ninja princess."

During the day, there was a lot of bickering and insulting. It was a different story when they were alone together at night. They always gravitated toward each other and personal space ceased to exist.

Deeks spread the quilt over them and prepared to have the crap scared out of him. He hated clowns.

**Next Morning at the Mission**

"Hey, G. Did you see this?" asked Sam.

The small TV mounted behind their desks was showing the local morning news. The anchorwoman was telling a story from the previous evening:

"_Off-duty LAPD cop nabs mall purse-snatcher. The attack was so upsetting to the pregnant woman whose purse was stolen that she went into labor a short while later. Fortunately, she delivered a healthy baby girl at Cedars-Sinai and mother and baby are doing well this morning."_

"Look like anyone you know?"

Callen peered at the screen. The "off-duty LAPD cop" was seen only from the back. "Don't tell me that's . . ."

"Yep, that's Deeks. I'd know that shaggy head anywhere," laughed Sam.

Five seconds later, Deeks walked in and dropped his bag on his desk. "Morning."

Sam muted the TV and they looked at the pavement burn on his face.

Deeks looked from one to the other. "What? I showered. Although I did have to use Kensi's coconut-mango-lime shower gel. But you don't really need to know that, do you?"

Sam and Callen tried not to smile. "Did she beat you up for not rescuing her at the training exercise yesterday?" asked Sam.

"Oh this," he said as he touched his cheek. "There was a little incident at the mall."

"We know," said Callen and unmuted the TV. The report was being repeated.

"Holy crap. Cell phone video," said Deeks. "At least they didn't get my face."

Sam laughed. "You're a hero, Deeks."

"How's Kensi?" asked Callen.

"She had a restless night because we watched a horror flick. It was her idea, I might add."

"And how do you know this?" wondered Callen.

Deeks looked a little nervous. Callen and Sam were very protective of Kensi even though she was quite capable of taking care of herself.

"Okay, I stayed with her. Somebody had to look after her. Plus, she's pissed that she has to stay off her foot."

"She needs to let it heal properly. I can't have a team that's not at 100 percent," said Callen.

"What about Hetty?" asked Deeks.

"Surgery was a success and she's going to her sister's house in San Diego to recover."

"Hetty has a sister?" asked Sam. "Did you know that?"

Callen shook his head. "Not until this morning. It was a complete shock to me, too. And it's her _twin _sister at that."

"Wow. I thought they broke the mold when they made Hetty," said Deeks.

"You mean there are two of them out there?" said Sam, still trying to wrap his brain around the fact.

"That's a sobering thought, isn't it," said Callen.

"What does the sister do?" asked Deeks.

Callen laughed. "I don't think this will come as any surprise, but she's a firearms instructor for the DEA."

"Double trouble. That's what it is," said Deeks.

Callen had to join another conference call with Granger and Vance and Sam and Deeks began reviewing cold case files.

By afternoon, Sam had discovered a pattern. Not in the cold cases, but with Deeks' behavior. At 10 minutes past every hour, Deeks either sent or received a text. Usually he sent a quick reply and got back to the cases. Now he was snickering.

"You conducting some kind of covert operation over there, Deeks? At the same time every hour something goes down."

"Just checking on my partner."

"You better not be sexting," said Sam in a threatening tone. He grabbed Deeks' phone.

"Hey man!"

Sure enough, there was a naked picture of Kensi. Kensi's naked foot, that is. It was propped up on the coffee table with a text that read:

_My foot is purple!_

Sam frowned. "Not good."

Callen walked over from Hetty's desk. Sam showed him the phone. "Definitely not good," he agreed.

It was already 4:20 p.m. Probably not much more work will get done today, Callen decided.

"Deeks, why don't you go check on her? We'll see you tomorrow."

"I'm on it!" he grinned. He snatched his phone from Sam and dumped the cold cases in the bottom desk drawer. He locked the drawer, grabbed his messenger bag, and sprinted for the door.

When he had gone, Callen said, ""Looks like the situation is about to reach critical mass with those two."

"About to?" said Sam. "It started a slow burn the moment they laid eyes on each other at that MMA gym."

"Should we let it play out?"

"Come on, G. You can't fight Mother Nature."

"I thought that was City Hall."

"That, too. All I'm saying is, let this thing run its natural course. Then everyone will be happy."

"I don't know. What if it doesn't work out for them? It could adversely affect team dynamics."

Sam grinned. "Then we'll have to beat some sense into Deeks. Show him he can't jerk our little sister around."


	7. Surprise Visitor

**CHAPTER 7 – SURPRISE VISITOR**

In the afternoon, Kensi was bored and called her mom. "Yeah, I have to take it easy for a couple days. No, everything's good. Deeks is helping me."

Julia Feldman noticed how her daughter's voice always changed when she talked about her partner. And she talked about him _a lot._ It was "Deeks did this" or "Deeks said that" or "Deeks thinks I should . . ."

These statements were usually accompanied by rolling of the eyes and/or exasperated sighs. Julia felt Kensi protested too much. But since she had yet to meet the mysterious Detective Deeks, she kept her opinion to herself.

Later, Julia showed up with a home-cooked dinner: meatloaf, garlic mashed potatoes, green beans, yeast rolls, and apple pie. As she unpacked the dishes in the kitchen, she took in Kensi's disheveled appearance.

"Sweetie, did you comb your hair today?"

Kensi fingered her messy ponytail. "Guess not. I've been lounging around. I haven't even showered yet."

"Why don't you go freshen up? You'll feel better. And take your time. We can eat later."

"Okay," said Kensi as she shuffled toward the bedroom.

Julia decided to use the time to pick up the place. As a teenager, Kensi always left clothes, books, makeup, etc. strewn everywhere. It appeared things had not improved.

In the living room, Julia started stacking up fashion magazines, CDs, and DVDs. As she picked up a romance novel, a picture fell out. She was quite surprised.

It was Kensi in an above-the-knee emerald-green cocktail dress, black heels, and long sparkly earrings. A tall blond-haired man in a tuxedo stood beside her, his arm around her waist. He was looking at her with undisguised affection. Her head was slightly turned toward him, as if she was about to say something. They must have been at a party or reception.

Was this the often spoken of, but never seen, Deeks? Was this one of their undercover operations that Kensi sometimes alluded to, or were they on an actual date? Whatever the situation, it must have been special for Kensi to keep. On the back someone, probably not Kensi, had written, _Awesome couple! _ A red heart was drawn underneath it.

Julia puzzled over it for a moment, then stuck it back in the novel. She heard the dryer cut off and went to unload it. Mainly it was Kensi's yoga clothes and sweats. However, Julia found some items that belonged to a man: socks, an LAPD tee shirt and another from Sea World.

Kensi was a grown woman and entitled to her privacy. Julia certainly did not want to be a meddling mother. Still, she could not help but wonder about the extent of Kensi's relationship with the detective. Did he make her happy? Did he make her feel safe?

She folded the clothes and took the laundry basket to the bedroom. She sat it down by the box containing Kensi's new running shoes. Beside Kensi's shoes was another pair of running shoes – not Kensi's. Beside that was an open duffle bag with men's deodorant and cologne clearly visible.

Kensi was singing in the shower so Julia gathered more stray magazines and DVDs and stacked them on the end of the dresser. Kensi's watch and earrings were in a tray on the other end along with a man's dress watch.

_This is all quite cozy_, thought Julia. _I wonder if I'll ever get to meet her detective?_

By now, the dishwasher had finished its cycle. Julia went to unload it.

"Ingredients to make dinner – Check! Exciting, but non-scary, movie for later – Check!"

Deeks still got the willies when he thought about the slasher clown from last night's movie. The one he picked for tonight was action-adventure with romance. A little something for everyone.

"Does that sound like a plan, Monty?" Deeks looked at his canine companion in the rear view mirror.

"Woof!

"I thought that was a solid plan, too."

As Julia unloaded the dishwasher, the sound of a key was heard in the front door.

"Hey Kens, it's me. Don't shoot."

Julia stood motionless. Surely an intruder would not announce himself. Kensi did not own any decent knives, but she would grab the pair of scissors from the drawer if she needed to defend herself.

Deeks leaned down and rubbed Monty behind the ears. "Go find mommy. Give her kisses to make her feel better."

Monty rushed into the kitchen and skidded to a halt. "Woof!

Julia gasped in surprise. The scruffy dog cocked his head one way and then another as he studied her. She could imagine him thinking, _Where's Kensi? You're not Kensi._

Deeks followed and also stopped. He held a grocery bag in his arms. "Whoa!" He surveyed the attractive dark-haired woman standing there. Not as tall as Kensi, but the same excellent bone structure. Dark jeans, boots, wine-colored turtle neck sweater, small gold hoop earrings.

She seemed as surprised, or shocked, as he was. A slow grin spread across his face. "You have to be Kensi's . . ."

"Yes, I'm Kensi's mother. Julia Feldman."

"I'm Marty Deeks, Kensi's partner." He set the grocery bag on the counter and stuck out his hand. "You guys could be sisters."

Julia smiled and shook his hand. "Detective Deeks. Kensi talks about you all the time. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Is that right?" He seemed pleased by the thought.

"Woof!"

Deeks laughed and looked down. "And this is Monty."

Julia held out her hand and Monty licked it. "Woof, woof!"

"Watch this," said Deeks.

"Monty . . . treats!"

Monty went to the cabinet behind Julia. With a paw and his nose, he nudged open the door and pulled out a bag of dog biscuits.

"Yes! Good boy!"

Julia laughed and saw Kensi shuffling up the hall. _This should be interesting._

"Deeks! What are you doing here?"

His eyes slid over her. Her hair was wet and she was wrapped in a navy blue towel. It barely covered her bottom, leaving her long legs exposed. Deeks didn't want to stare, but he couldn't help himself. His Kensalina was beautiful.

"Where's your boot?"

She huffed. "I couldn't very well take a shower with it, could I?"

"Touché," he laughed. He pointed to the bag on the counter. "I was going to surprise you and make my special chili for dinner. Some people say it's spicy, but I like to think of it as _sassy_. Kinda like you, Fern."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I see you've met my mom."

"Marty, why don't we eat what I prepared while it's hot? " said Julia.

"Excellent. It smells wonderful! I'll make the chili another night and you have to come back for it."

"It's a deal," said Julia.

Deeks looked back to Kensi. "Uh Kens, did you maybe want to throw on some clothes?"

Kensi seemed to have forgotten she was standing there in only a towel. "Yeah, good idea."

Julia regarded their interactions with amusement. She had the feeling if it were only the two of them having dinner, Kensi may well have just worn her towel.


	8. Mom Knows Best

Page **4** of **4**

**CHAPTER 8 – MOM KNOWS BEST**

**Note: **Yes, I saw the "Blye, K." episodes and know that Deeks and Julia met then. However, I'm taking creative license (hey, I'm a writer, after all!) and that's why they are just now getting acquainted. So, please be patient with my little story and enjoy it for what it is. I'm thrilled you're reading it!

"I'll set the table," said Deeks. "I know where Kensi's meager housewares are."

Julia laughed. "Yes, you probably do. I don't think Kensi does much cooking."

"How about _no _cooking. Her idea of dinner is stuffing her face with Pop-Tarts and calling it a night."

"Oh, surely not," said Julia. She realized the detective knew her daughter far better than she did.

"I heard that, Deeks."

They looked up as Kensi made her way into the kitchen. She was wearing some sweat pants and Deeks' Sea World tee shirt. He gave her a pointed look and she raised her eyebrows as if to say _So?_

_Thank goodness she's dressed now. That towel was awfully distracting, especially with mom here_, thought Deeks

"You gonna deny it?" asked Deeks.

Kensi hesitated. "Well . . . sometimes I eat Cheerios. Those are supposed to be good for you."

"Uh huh. Come on, your mom's made a terrific meal."

"Kensi, you really should make an effort to eat better," said Julia as they sat down at the small kitchen table.

"It's hard for us," said Deeks. "We work crazy hours and it's easier to grab something on the go."

"Oh, now you're on my side?" asked Kensi. She pointed her fork at him.

Deeks gave her an indulgent look. "Kens, I'm always on your side. But admit it, boiling an egg is an accomplishment for you."

"Woof!"

Monty was lying on the rug in front of the back door. Deeks hooked a thumb in his direction. "Even Monty knows your culinary limitations."

"I never claimed to be Martha Stewart," she answered with a pout.

"Maybe Santa should bring you a cookbook for Christmas," said Deeks with his trademark goofy grin.

The meal was delicious and despite Kensi's earlier reservations, conversation flowed easily and everyone was relaxed. Deeks was being his usual outgoing, exuberant self and charming her mother. He was good at talking to people and could sell ice to the Eskimos.

Julia was enjoying herself, too. She caught the looks that passed between Kensi and Deeks when they thought she wasn't paying attention. Like they were communicating without words.

_Uh huh, definitely more than a work relationship going on here_, she thought.

After dinner, Deeks insisted on cleaning up the kitchen while Kensi walked her mother out.

"It's the least I can do, Julia," he said. He tossed a dishtowel over his shoulder and set about loading the dishwasher and putting away leftovers.

"I like your detective," said Julia with a smile. They were standing outside the front door.

As usual, Kensi tried to deflect their relationship. "He's not _my _detective. Well, in a way he is since we're work partners. I mean . . ."

Julie touched her arm. "Honey, I saw his things in the bedroom . . . and you're wearing his shirt."

Kensi opened her mouth to protest, but Julia held up a hand to stop her. "I wasn't trying to snoop; I was only straightening up. Your housekeeping skills are, shall we say, somewhat lax."

Kensi made a face. "Yeah, Deeks reminds me of that all the time. You should see his place. He's obsessive-compulsive and nothing is out of place. I think he's even trained Monty to pick up after himself." She rushed over the words in an attempt to cover her embarrassment.

"Maybe some of that neatness will rub off on you." Julia paused. "All I'm saying is, Marty seems like a good man and he obviously cares about you. Don't push him away."

Kensi sighed and tears pricked her eyes. "He _is_ a good man. I don't know why he puts up with me sometimes."

"Your father would have liked him."

The mention of her late father struck a nerve with Kensi. "You really think so?"

"Of course. He would be happy you found someone so loving and honorable."

Kensi felt overwhelmed. She didn't handle raw emotions very well. "Monty likes me, too," she said to lighten the mood.

Julia gave a little laugh. "Yes, Monty and Marty. They're quite the pair."

The front door opened and Deeks came out with Monty on his leash. He shrugged. "Monty has to go."

Julia leaned down to rub behind Monty's ears. "Monty's a good man, too."

Deeks didn't miss the implication and caught Kensi's eye. He could tell she was struggling not to lose control.

Julia straightened and gave Deeks a hug. "Marty, it was wonderful meeting you. I hope to see you again."

He smiled. "You can count on it."

Next she hugged Kensi. "Don't forget what I said, sweetie," she whispered.

"I won't," promised Kensi.

Then Julia got in her car and headed home.

"You okay?" asked Deeks. "Foot bothering you?"

Kensi looked down at her boot. "Yeah, a little."

"Why don't you go sit down? Monty and I'll be back in 10. Then we'll watch this evening's cinematic classic."

"And what would that be?"

"My lips are sealed. You'll have to wait until after Monty does his business."

Kensi looked down at the dog. "Well, make it snappy."

Twenty minutes later, the pair returned. "That was more than 10 minutes," said Kensi.

"Yeah, Monty had to chase a few squirrels."

"Okay, I suppose that's allowed." Monty looked up at her and whined. Then he laid down by the coffee table to watch the movie with them.

Deeks popped the DVD in and settled on the couch with Kensi. The opening scene of _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ rolled across the screen.

"Question: Did you enjoy Sea World?" asked Deeks.

"What?" She'd temporarily forgotten about the tee shirt. "Haven't been in years. But a friend went and enjoyed it. I don't know why he didn't bring me a souvenir."

"Looks like he did," chuckled Deeks.


	9. Say What?

Page **6** of **6**

**CHAPTER 9 – SAY WHAT?**

**Monday Morning **

"Your mom likes me," said Deeks as he drove them to work. He was positively beaming.

Kensi cut her eyes to him. "Yes . . . yes, she does." In fact, she was glad the two of them hit it off so well.

"Wait! Hold the presses! Do we actually agree on something?"

"You don't have to act so surprised." Kensi studied the passing street scene as if she'd never glimpsed it before. They usually took this route once or twice every other week in the practice of good tradecraft. They couldn't afford to lead bad guys back to the Mission.

She chewed her bottom lip. "She saw your stuff in the bedroom."

They pulled up to a red light and Deeks turned to face her. He feigned shock. "Uh oh, are you going to be on restrictions because you had a guy in your room? Will you have to do extra chores? Will you have to miss the big dance because of it?"

"Oh, shut up," she said as she playfully jabbed his shoulder. "She thinks you're good for me."

"Princess, that was already an established fact." He reached over and patted her thigh.

"Gloating is so unbecoming." Even as she said it, she couldn't keep from smiling.

"I like her, too. She's a cool lady. And a fantastic cook." He studied Kensi for a moment. "What happened to you?"

A frown crossed her face. "I have other skills. When mom uses a knife, it's to carve a turkey. And she can't break down a gun, clean it, and reassemble it."

"I'm not so sure. Have you ever asked her? I bet with some instruction she could."

"And I'm betting she has no interest in doing that."

"Like you have no interest in cooking? Really, it's okay. At least I know my way around a kitchen so if we ever move in together, we won't starve."

Kensi almost choked on her coffee. "Wh . . . what?!" Her hand shot out to steady herself on the dash.

Deeks handed her a napkin from the console. "Come on, Fern. Think about it. We work together, we carpool, we hang out together in our spare time, we've got each other's back, we _sleep _together on occasion, emphasis on _sleep, _which, by the way, anytime you want to upgrade from just _sleeping_, feel free to let me know because I'm all about upgrading."

Kensi stared at him as if he had two heads. "That was an incredibly long run-on sentence." Her heart thumped like a runaway horse. Her brain was about to short-circuit as it scrambled to formulate a coherent response.

Deeks smirked. "Don't try to distract me with a grammar lesson."

To say she was shocked was an understatement. Her and Deeks living together? An official couple? Scary. Yet everything he said was true. They'd grown close in the time they'd been paired at work and they trusted each other without hesitation.

"You sound like a lawyer making a closing argument to the jury." Kensi paused as she attempted to gather her thoughts.

"I _was_ a lawyer," Deeks reminded her.

"Don't interrupt me." She pursed her lips. "How long have you been thinking about this?"

"From the moment I met you. 'Damn, that is one fine-looking woman. How did Zuna hook up with her?' That was what I thought."

A faint blush appeared on Kensi's cheeks. Deeks found that adorable.

"But you didn't have a clue about me. I might have been a very, very bad girl."

"True. But that only made you hotter."

Instead of being flattered, Kensi now appeared annoyed. "It's not fair. You can't make statements like that and . . ."

"And what?"

"You're doing it again."

"What?"

"Interrupting."

"Sorry. Kensi has the floor." They had reached the Mission now and pulled into a parking spot in the courtyard. Deeks cut the engine.

"You can't expect me to respond to such an outrageous idea like that on the spur of the moment."

"Why not? Deep down, you know we would be totally _awesome_ together." Deeks sounded so hopeful, like a child yearning for approval from a parent or teacher. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he continued.

"Kens, even when we're in the field, we don't always know all the players. We don't always know all the entrance and exit points ahead of time. We adapt as we go along. It would be the same with us."

"I know, but . . ."

A sudden rapping on the driver's side window caused both of them to jump.

"What the hell?" stammered Deeks.

Same stood there grinning. Deeks lowered the window. "What was that for?"

"You guys coming in? We have cold cases to work on. Just because Hetty's not here doesn't mean we can slack off."

"Do you mind? Kensi and I are having an important conversation here," said Deeks with a whine.

"About what? Whether it's going to rain today? Because here's your answer."

Fat raindrops began pelting the windshield. "Give us five minutes, okay?" said Deeks.

"The clock is ticking," said Sam and pointed to his watch. He turned and headed for the door.

Deeks raised the window and turned to Kensi. "Where were we?" They stared at each other. Kensi nervously twisted a strand of hair around her finger.

"You can't tell me you never thought about us. . ."

"Okay, once . . . or maybe twice," admitted Kensi. "Are you happy now?" She knew Deeks would keep pestering her until she gave him an answer. Preferably one he wanted to hear.

A smile spread across his face. "I knew it! You try to act like we're not on the same page, but we are."

Kensi sighed. "Fine. But this is not the time or place to explore this. Like Sam said, there are cold cases to look at."

Eric looked up from his tablet. "You're Richie . . . Everett?" A short, baby-faced Asian kid with spiky, black hair stood in front of him. He didn't even look old enough for a learner's permit from the Department of Motor Vehicles.

"I get that a lot. My mom's Korean. She's a geneticist and my dad's a neurosurgeon. Maybe you've heard of him – Dr. Carlton Everett at UCLA Medical Center?"

"Nope, can't say that I have. Now you can . . ."

"Anyway, my brother's a Silicon Valley entrepreneur and my sister's an intellectual property attorney and my cousin is CEO of . . ."

"Okay, got it. You're from a family of overachievers." _Seriously, where did they dig up this geek? _wondered Eric.

He pointed to a desk. "Sit over there. And don't touch anything."

"But I . . ."

"Don't. Touch. Anything," repeated Eric.

He tapped his earpiece as a call came in. "Go, Sam." He listened for a moment. "Got it."

Eric proceeded to the top of the stairs. Sam waited at the bottom and tossed a flash drive up to him. When he turned around, Richie was right on his heels.

"Hey, watch it."

"Do we have a case?" asked Richie eagerly.

Before Eric could respond, Richie caught sight of Kensi walking in. Well, _clomping _ in. She was still confined to the walking boot. She dropped her bag on the desk and removed her leather jacket, revealing a tight red scoop-neck tee shirt.

Richie's eyes bugged out. "Dude! Who's that hottie?"

Eric sighed and rolled his eyes. "That's Special Agent Blye. And for the record, she's light-years out of your league."

"Hey, just because I'm short doesn't mean I don't get lots of action," bragged Richie.

Eric looked skeptical. "Yeah, right." _And I'm the Pope._ Deeks followed ten seconds later and plopped a box of donuts on her desk.

"She has a boyfriend," Eric added. He knew Deeks wouldn't mind being labeled as such.

Richie's face scrunched up in disbelief. "Who? That shaggy guy? No way. He looks like he slept on the beach. Now _he's_ the one who's light-years out of her league."

Eric frowned. This conversation, and the whole day, was rapidly going off the rails. He turned to stare down at the kid.

"You do realize we're _armed_ federal agents, don't you?"

As they stood there arguing, Deeks and Kensi went to secure their weapons in the lockers behind the desks.

"Whoa, hot babe with a gun! It just gets better and better," said Richie. He almost hyperventilated. He turned to Eric. "Where's _your_ gun?"

"That is 'need-to-know' information and you don't have the security clearance to know."

Richie was unimpressed. "So you don't have one. Bet you don't have a girlfriend either."

Eric stood up straighter. "The only reason you're here is because my _girlfriend_ has the flu. Don't get the idea this is a permanent gig."

He waved the flash drive in Richie's face. "You should probably start analyzing this bank data before I decide to shoot you." Eric turned to head back to his desk.

"Did I mention I'm a black belt in karate?" called out Richie as he trotted behind him.

Eric waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever. I need to hear the sound of numbers being crunched. Assistant Director Granger is waiting for that intel."

Eric dropped into his ergonomically-correct chair and adjusted his glasses.

_Okay, Nell is definitely a girl and she's my friend . . . sooo technically she is my girl-friend. A friend who just happens to be a girl. Yeah, that's my defense. But if she gets wind of this, she'll rip out my hard drive and beat me over the head with it._


	10. Partners

Page **6** of **6**

**CHAPTER 10 – Partners**

"What are you doing?" asked Eric. He frowned when he discovered Richie sitting at Nell's desk and rearranging her things.

Richie examined a small framed picture. "Is this your partner slash girlfriend?" His tone suggested disbelief.

In it, Nell and Kensi wore goofy hats and mugged for the camera, which in this case was a mall photo booth. Probably taken during one of their marathon shopping sprees.

Eric snatched it away from him. "Yes, that's Intelligence Analyst Nell Jones. My partner. And this is _her_ desk and _her_ things."

"But you said she was sick."

Eric was growing more annoyed by the second. "She has the flu, not bubonic plague. She'll be back in a couple days."

_I hope. Otherwise I can't be held responsible for the bodily harm I might inflict on this kid. _

Eric pointed across the room. "You need to sit over there and start running that facial recognition software for McGuire's team. You'll be working under their analyst. Also a black belt in karate."

"Fine. Bring it," said Richie. Reluctantly, he got up and shuffled to the other side of the room. Once he was settled, Eric set about straightening Nell's desk.

"That's better," mumbled Eric when he had restored order. He checked his watch. "Three, two, one." He glanced up to see the other Intelligence Analyst coming around the corner. "Right on time."

Richie had walked back over to get his water bottle and stopped. His mouth dropped open at the sight of the petite agent. Product of a Vietnamese father and Brazilian mother, the young woman had long, shiny black hair, huge brown eyes, and an olive complexion. Guys often mistook her for a fragile, helpless creature. Until she slammed their sorry butt to the ground.

"Ah, Vanessa. Good to see you again," said Eric.

"Likewise, Eric." She smiled warmly at him.

"Vanessa Tran, meet Richie Everett."

In her black ballerina flats, the Stanford grad and computer whiz was two inches taller than Richie. Her smile dropped and she gave off a distinct 'don't mess with me' vibe.

"Well, come on. We have work to do," she announced. "And please close your mouth. It makes you look like an imbecile."

It took a moment for Richie to find his voice. "Uh, yeah . . . okay," he stammered.

Eric chuckled. _She'll keep him on his toes and out of my hair.  
_

Downstairs, Kensi and Deeks settled in to review cold cases. Callen was occupied at Hetty's desk, so Deeks moved over to sit beside Kensi.

"Easier to compare notes this way," he said. "And to monitor your total donut intake."

Kensi snorted. "For the record, I've had three. Not that it's any of your concern."

"Wrong! Everything you do or don't do is my concern, _partner_." Deeks laughed and opened a case file. The way he said it showed he was still thinking about their earlier conversation.

Kensi was hyperaware of Deeks today. Their thighs were almost touching. Outside work, she enjoyed the closeness. At work, she feared Sam or Callen walking up at any minute, staring at them and then making a comment.

_They know we have a close working relationship. They're trying to figure out if we've crossed the ultimate line yet. _

Deeks read quietly, but Kensi found it hard to concentrate. His scent – a mixture of soap, woodsy cologne, and just _him_ – enveloped her like a cloak. She tried taking shallow breaths, but that didn't help.

His surfer hair as she now thought of it, was a bit long even for him. Rather than being annoyed by this fact, her fingers itched to plunge into the silky strands and pull his lips down to hers.

_What is wrong with me today? I'm like some sappy teenager in a Hallmark Channel movie._

He started tapping the eraser end of his pencil on the file. Usually this meant he was engrossed in whatever he was reading and Kensi usually got mad at this juncture and yelled at him. But today she was oddly mesmerized by the motion.

She cut her eyes to his forearms and biceps. She remembered how nice and secure it felt to wake up wrapped in those arms with his breath tickling her neck.

_It could be like that every morning if we lived together. _

He caught her ogling him and raised his eyebrows.

"What?" she snapped.

"You looked pensive. Did you find something in your case? Or were you maybe thinking about something else?" He had the nerve to wink at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Kensi sucked in a breath. _He really does know me better than anyone. It's scary how he can read me. _

She coughed nervously. "I, uh, noticed that this Petty Officer's brother apparently was never interviewed about his disappearance. He was in the army in Iraq at the time but . . ."

"Okay, good. That's a starting point," said Deeks. "Is there an address for the brother?"

"Let's see." Kensi began flipping through the file. _Thank goodness we got away from the personal stuff.  
_

Eric returned from lunch and logged back into his computer. Hetty's image popped up and filled the screen. He almost fell out of his chair from the shock.

"Hetty! What are, uh, I mean how are you? Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Beale. Just returned from my daily physical therapy session. Let me tell you, knee replacement is not for sissies. But enough about me. Have you checked on Ms. Jones?"

"Uh, no. I was about to call her. Callen's keeping up with her."

"She's your partner. Besides, Mr. Callen has enough on his plate at the moment."

"You're right. I'll get right on it."

"Excellent. I'll be in touch, Mr. Beale."

As quickly as she had appeared, Hetty was gone.

"That was weird," muttered Eric. "Almost as scary as the Hetty-bot."

However, before he could phone Nell, word came in about a Marine with a high security clearance being shot at a nearby mall. Sam and Deeks went to investigate and Callen informed Assistant Director Granger.

Hours passed before Eric could leave the Mission. Instead of calling Nell, he decided to drop by her apartment. He'd never been there before, but he knew her address.

He turned off the engine and sat in the car for a few minutes. He felt a little nervous or shy or something he couldn't quite name. He'd brought sushi and large bags of Oreos and M& M's. Hetty forbade the consumption of junk food in Ops so they would indulge their sweet tooth here.

Nell opened the door to find a familiar face standing there.

"Oh . . . hi, Eric."

Eric smiled and took in Nell's appearance from head to toe. She wore a fluffy pink robe and fluffy pink slippers. Her nose was red and her hair was sticking out at weird angles.

"Did you check the peephole? I could have been a terrorist," he chided.

"I can't recall a case where a terrorist actually rang a doorbell. Besides, I thought it was my neighbor, Mrs. Mendoza. She was bringing me some special Mexican soup. Swears it will knock those flu germs 'right out of the ball park,' in her words. She's a huge baseball fan."

"Are you disappointed?"

"Not at all. I'm really glad to see you. I'm bored here. You have to tell me everything that's going on. And what's in those bags?"

Eric smiled. "You'll see."

But he'd barely finished unloading the goodies when the doorbell rang again.

They looked at each other. "Mrs. Mendoza," they laughed.

"But let me check first," said Eric, being the protective male. He put his eye to the peephole, then turned back to Nell.

"Short, chubby Hispanic woman."

"That's her," confirmed Nell as she came to open the door.

Mrs. Mendoza breezed into the apartment, chattering and smiling. She carried a tray loaded with Tupperware containers.

"Oh, I didn't know you had company," she smiled.

"I'm Eric. Can I take that for you?"

"Yes, thank you. It'soup and sandwiches. Plenty for your boyfriend, too."

She reached out and pinched Eric's upper arm.

"Ow!"

"You could use some more meat on your bones, Eric."

Nell was shocked. "Eric's not . . ."

"I'm not her . . ."

They looked at each other in panic. "We work together," they blurted at the same time.

"Oh, at the TV station," smiled Mrs. Mendoza. "Maybe you can explain why the Dodgers game was delayed until 2 a.m. the other night."

Thinking fast Nell said, "I'm afraid we really don't have anything to do with programming. We do computer stuff. Boring stuff. You know, gauging market share, that sort of thing."

Mrs. Mendoza departed and Eric rubbed his arm. "Now I know how Deeks feels when Kensi slugs him."

They sat on the couch. Nell's cat, Mr. Bubbles, climbed into Eric's lap and prepared for a nap. Hesitantly, Eric petted him.

Suddenly, Eric laughed. "We work at a TV station?"

"Yeah . . . about that. It seemed safer for national security than revealing what I actually do. If I'd told Mrs. Mendoza the truth, she'd blab to her eight kids and bazillion grandkids and then all of Los Angeles would know and Hetty would . . ."

"Hetty would impale us with her antique letter opener," finished Eric.

Nell nodded. "We would be stuck to the climbing wall like bugs under a microscope."

"Good thinking, Ms. Jones."

**Sorry for the long wait between chapters. I was busy with Christmas activities and working late. But here it is, so enjoy! **


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